25. Theo
25
THEO
I sat in my car outside the house, realizing I didn’t have Rafe’s number. Max had texted me that she was going into a meeting and couldn’t be interrupted, so I wasn’t about to reach out to her.
I didn’t have to wait long. Rafe must’ve been watching out the window because he came barreling out the door, skateboard in hand. I’d driven my black Porsche because I had a feeling he’d like it more than my Land Rover. Maybe it would give us something to talk about.
Rafe was halfway down the front walk when the door behind him flew open and a man in a t-shirt and jeans came out to yell at him.
“Hey, hey !”
Rafe didn’t turn around, his face hard as he stalked toward my car.
“Where are you going?” he bellowed. “And who’s that ?”
Rafe paused but didn’t turn to face the man.
“I’m talking to you, kid. Who the hell is that?”
Rafe started walking toward me again, causing his father to come tripping down the front stairs after him.
I’d had enough. I got out of my car and unfolded myself, my eyes on Nick. When he saw me standing there, substantially bigger than him in both height and build, he froze then wobbled a few steps closer.
He was drunk.
“Who are you?” he jeered.
“A friend. Rafe is leaving with me.”
Nick snorted. “That’s what you think. He’s supposed to be sick, he ain’t going anywhere.”
“Get in the car,” I said to Rafe in a low voice.
He nodded and slid into the passenger seat, leaving me and Nick staring at each other. It was a faceoff, and I wasn’t about to lose.
“It’s midday and you’re drunk. He’s coming with me,” I said simply.
I hadn’t moved onto his property, and Nick didn’t seem like he was in a hurry to get any closer to me. I’d always been told that my height could be intimidating, which was exactly what I was counting on in the moment.
“Shut the fuck up,” Nick yelled back at me, looking around with an incredulous expression on his face, like me calling him out for drinking was the most insane thing he’d ever heard. “What do you know?”
“I know Rafe is leaving.”
And with that I got back into my car and peeled out with dramatic flare, just for Rafe. I saw the corner of his mouth curve up for a second as he looked over his shoulder to watch Nick disappear.
“You okay?” I asked after we got back on the highway.
Rafe shrugged. “Yup.”
“Your sister said you have a headache. Do you need aspirin or anything?”
“Nope. I took some an hour ago.”
“So you’re feeling a little better?” I glanced at him.
He bobbed his head once. It was going to be a long afternoon.
“You hungry?” I asked him. “We could grab some food.”
“I ate half a cold pizza. I’m good.”
So much for one of my planned time wasters. We had at least four hours before Max finished for the day. On to Plan B.
“Do you feel okay enough to stay out, or do you want to go back to my place and rest?”
“Depends,” he shrugged.
“Okay.” I pushed on. “There’s something I think you’d enjoy. It combines two things I know you like.”
“Whatever.”
I made a quick right and headed for the gallery, hoping he wouldn’t think I was an idiot for suggesting it.
“What’s this?” he asked, getting out of the car slowly to squint at the white building.
“It’s an art gallery that’s doing a show with street artists. There’s a bunch of custom painted skateboards included in it.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I’ve bought a few paintings here and they keep sending me emails about their latest showings hoping I’ll buy more. When I heard about this show I thought you might appreciate it.”
He bobbed his head again. It was probably the most enthusiasm I’d get out of him. He hung behind me as we walked into the place.
“Mr. Barnes, welcome back.”
A blonde in a formfitting blue dress greeted us, and Rafe couldn’t stop staring at her.
“Thank you. Okay if we poke around?”
She gestured to the expansive white space that was dotted with chaotic-looking oversized canvases. “By all means. I’m here if you have any questions about the artist or works.”
I let Rafe take the lead.
“This one is insane ,” he whispered as we got closer to the first canvas, his eyes wide.
It was an acid-trip of a work, a mash-up of colors, bodies, and words swirling together.
Rafe giggled when he spotted the two topless women embracing in the corner of the painting.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“It’s okay, but a little too crazy for me.” He walked a few steps to another work. “I like this one better.”
It was a simple, bold skull painted with thick black lines on a yellow canvas and wearing a flaming crown.
“That’s a cool one. Not to get too nerdy on you, but I think it’s a reference to an old 80s artist named Keith Haring, and another street artist named Basquiat who got really famous after he died.”
“I know that name,” Rafe said, turning to me. “He’s the crown guy. He’s all over TikTok, and they make shirts with his stuff. I like him.”
“Well, then we have something in common. One day I hope to own one of his originals.”
I didn’t mention that his last painting had sold for one hundred and ten million at auction.
“There are the skateboards,” Rafe said, jogging across the gallery and not bothering to hide his excitement.
I joined him next to the wall lined with clear plexiglass cases.
“ That one is badass,” Rafe said, pointing to a board featuring a smiling devil on it.
“You definitely have a theme for what you like,” I laughed. “Creepy.”
He turned to me. “That’s not true. I like all sorts of stuff. I like the cat sticker you bought for me at the farmer’s market.” He moved a few steps down the line of boards. “I like this one with the mushroom and bunny, too.”
I leaned closer to examine the skateboard he’d pointed at. It was an incredibly realistic painting of a bright red toadstool with a tiny rabbit nestled beneath it. The effect was ethereal and feminine, and I loved the fact that the “cool guy” also appreciated what could be considered a more girly work.
“Agreed. That’s amazing.”
Rafe and I worked our way around the room, talking about what he liked and didn’t like. I listened without judgement. I knew Renee and Max did their best to support him, but I wasn’t sure how often Rafe had a supportive male presence in his life.
The blonde joined us as we finished our lap around the gallery. “Anything stand out to you, Mr. Barnes?”
I glanced at Rafe. “What do you think?”
Suddenly, the kid who’d spent the past hour finally opening up to me was silent. “It was good.” He stared at the ground.
“Great stuff,” I added. “Thanks for letting us check it out.”
I clapped Rafe on the shoulder as we walked out the door. Once we were in the parking lot, he spun on his heel to face me.
“Was she, like, a model or something?”
I held back a laugh. So that was what made him clam up. The pretty girl.
“Maybe. This is Miami. More models per capita than any place else on earth. Except maybe Brazil.”
Rafe was staring at the building behind us, as if he hoped to get another glimpse of her. “She was … wow.”
“I didn’t notice,” I answered honestly.
“Yeah, no kidding,” he laughed as we walked toward my car. “You and Max are all stupid for each other. It’s gross.” But despite his words, he didn’t look grossed out—he looked pleased.
“I prefer to think of it as romantic, but I understand why you wouldn’t. She is your sister, after all.”
As I got into the car, I was reminded of his threat the day at the farmer’s market.
“I hope you know I’m taking care of her,” I added gently.
“Good,” he fired back at me. “She deserves it.”
“You’re right about that.”
“Where to now?” Rafe asked. “Not home yet, right?”
There was a tremor in his voice.
“Nope, not for a while. You’re stuck with me until Max finishes up. That okay?”
He pursed his lips. “I guess. Not like I have much choice.”
“Why don’t we head back to my place? The Dolphins are on in a bit. We can get set up for that and decide if we want to eat. I’ll get takeout.”
“I haven’t been able to watch a game on a TV screen since my dad threw his boot through ours.”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. The poor kid, living like that. I wanted to get him to open up about his home life, but I also knew that hanging with me was a chance to forget about it, at least for a little while, and I wouldn’t take that away from him.
“I’ve got ninety-eight-inch plasma, plus I’ve got a screening room if we want to watch it movie-style. Up to you.”
“Damn,” he muttered. “Must be nice.”
“It’s nice when I have people to share it with me.”
I glanced over at him, but he was angled away from me, looking out the window.
“Hey, can we do one more detour?” I asked.
“Depends.”
“I’m craving ice cream, and there’s a new place that opened up that’s half ice cream and half donuts. You in?”
“Hell yeah.”
Rafe and I managed to kill another hour stuffing ourselves full of dessert. His defenses were dropping little by little, and I wasn’t at all surprised to discover I liked the kid. He had Max’s take-no-shit sensibility, but it was still wrapped in youthful uncertainty. It was like I could see him trying out an adult persona.
We got back to my place, and Rafe clammed up as we walked inside.
“Wow.”
“Did you decide if you want the regular TV or the screening room?”
“Screening room,” he said as he turned in a circle, taking in my condo.
“Okay, let me show you where it is and I’ll grab drinks.”
Once he was set up, I pulled my phone from my pocket. Tons of work texts and emails, but not a peep from Max. Weird. I knew she was busy, but I figured she’d steal a few minutes to check in, considering I was hosting her brother. I tried not to stress about it as I loaded up a tray of drinks and more snacks, since Rafe was at the right age to always be hungry.
He was slumped in a leather recliner when I walked back in the room, looking very at home. Good. He deserved some down-time in a relaxing environment.
“Got the projector all figured out?” I asked him.
“Yup, it’s simple.”
I chuckled when I saw that he’d not only figured out how to turn it on but had also found the right channel. I’d needed a thirty-minute tutorial from the home theater tech before it made sense to me.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I brought water, soda, and lemonade, plus some chips and pretzels.”
“Thanks.”
“Have you heard from Max at all?” I asked him. “I’m thinking ahead to dinner, not sure if we should meet her out somewhere or just fend for ourselves.”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Nope, nothing from her.”
“It’s after five,” I said. “I’m going to call.”
Her phone rang then went to voicemail. “Can you try her, Rafe?” Surely she wouldn’t ignore his call. I tried not to let on that I was getting concerned.
He dialed quickly and stared at the game. “Voicemail,” he said as he disconnected the call.
“Does she usually keep in touch with you?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes. Not all the time. Why, you worried?”
“No, not exactly. More curious about what’s going on. She didn’t think it was going to be a late night.”
“You’re worried,” Rafe answered.
I didn’t answer because yeah, I was a little.